WWW AWKWARD
by Fatal Error
Summary: AU Crack!Fic Indirect sequel to U & UR Spray Bottle. Mello's therapist is pure evil and he is now being forced to work on his social skills, meanwhile Matt is busy trying to find a decent date. Possible slash if you can see it as more than crack


**WWW.AWKWARD **by **FatalError  
**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Death Note or Matt and Mello, if I did you'd be seeing a whole lot more of them in the anime. -grumbles-

** Rating: **T for language and sexual references.

**A/N:** AU Crack!Fic, and should be taken as such. For my younger brother Jeremy, the adorkable Matt and Mello fanboy. This was another random idea that popped into my head out of nowhere, and is sort of an indirect sequel to "U & UR Spray Bottle" in the sense that it takes place in my same little alternate universe. Yesh, I do enjoy screwing with poor Mello.(He is such a Narci!) X3

* * *

The wall clock he'd been staring at from across the room for the passed hour and fifty-three minutes was like a malfunctioning nail gun, each movement shooting another rusty nail directly into his head. He was completely convinced the stupid thing was mocking him the way every tick of the second hand was more painfully slow than the last. It hurt a lot more when something dull was slowly puncturing your skull then if it were a sharp quick stab. And it sure as hell didn't help that he was currently sandwiched between Joey Stalin, dictator of New York's most elite kleptomaniacs, and Eris goddess of chaos, disorder, and mismatching clothing who had been rambling about her _whatever_ boyfriend problems. 

"Mello?"

Honestly, was she blind or did she enjoy dressing like a retired circus performer?

"Mello?"

Forget that, he'd seen circus performers with a better fashion sense than her. It isn't that hard to find a mirror now-a-days is it? Or maybe she was a vampire and couldn't see her own reflection.

"_Mello?_"

No she couldn't be a vampire, in order to be one of the living dead you need to be eternally beautiful. _Hmm, eternally beautiful?_ Mello liked the sound of that, maybe he could be a vampire, he certainly was beautiful. Oh, but that would sort of suck because he couldn't look at his drop dead gorgeous self in the mirror anymore. Hehe, _drop dead_ gorgeous…vampires…

"Mello!" The therapist little more than gently 'tapped' his head with her clipboard.

"Ow! What the hell?!" Mello rubbed the now sore spot on his head that the clipboard had been forced upon.

"Mello you need to pay attention when others are talking, now are you ready to answer my question?" His annoyed therapist tucked the clipboard under her arm and awaited his answer.

Of course Mello was ready to answer her question; it meant he would finally get to go home. Except in most cases in order to answer a question you need to have actually heard it first.

"Umm, no, I don't know why my boots just happened to be sitting in front of the stairs, but he only had a mild concussion…"

"I wasn't asking how your roommate 'accidentally' ended up in the hospital again, Mello. I was asking about your social relationships." The therapist interrupted him, which was rather annoying considering _therapists_ were the ones who were supposed to be listening to _you_, right?

"What do you mean by 'relationships'?" Mello glared at the clock that had now decided to stop at three minutes of five just so it could watch the stupid interrogation he was undergoing.

His therapist sighed and shook her head, "I mean have you ever even considered on committing to a real relationship?"

Well, Mello had a pretty good relationship with himself; in fact, he and himself had exchanged promise rings once. They'd promised to always love each other more than anyone else in the world. And so far he'd been nothing but faithful to himself.

"Relationships are for sappy codependent idiots who need someone else's reassurance every waking minute of every day in order to not feel completely self-deprecating and worthless." Mello thought about adding a sarcastic '_I love me more than that'_ but didn't want to ruin his chances of leaving after the predetermined three minutes left of his session.

The therapist crossed her arms, rolling dull gray eyes behind thick rimmed glasses at her 'favorite' narcissistic delinquent, er, _patient_. She glanced at the clock; unfortunately it was already almost five, which happened to be the time their current session had to end. But that wouldn't stop her from finding a way to 'improve' that oh-so-lovable favorite patient of hers first.

"Well Mello, since your portion of our session is being cut short I am going to make up for it by giving you a personal challenge. I won't be seeing you for two days over the weekend, so I want you to go on at least one date before our next session. I believe it will improve your relationship and social skills, I know it will be hard to find someone in two days but _I _know you're smart, and _you_ know you're good looking, so you'll find a way. But if you really can't think of anything, speed dating and online services will probably be the fastest and easiest for you." She smiled her always pleasant, but in Mello's opinion condescending smile.

"And what happens if I refuse?" The blonde narrowed his eyes at the evil psych.

"Then you can count on two extra hours added to your next session, just you and me, one on one. I'm sure there are question that are better asked in private, correct?" Miss doctor I'm-better-than-you-since-I'm-in-a-white-coat pushed her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose, still grinning.

"Dammit.." Mello muttered as the obnoxious minute hand finally hit twelve. The rest of the circus freaks gathered their things and began piling out through the doorway. The blonde boy was the last to collect his belongings and leave the building since he'd prefer to prolong accomplishing his "personal challenge" for as long as possible.

-------------

Mello walked hesitantly into his bedroom where a terribly neglected HP sat alone on his bedside table, desperately begging to be put to some greater good other than giving refuge to airborne allergens. Luckily Matt wasn't home yet, which meant for the meantime there was no one there to stick their annoying head over his shoulder and most likely never let him live down what he was about to do. Online dating she said? There was no way he was going to go out in public like some desperate loser and actually socialize with more pathetic rejects. Which meant, to put it bluntly, there was no way in hell he was going to try speed dating. And spending two _private_ hours with Doctor I-Graduated-From-An-Ivy-League-College-So-Screw-You-Psychopath was out of the question. There really was no other option, so Mello reluctantly picked up the piece of expensive machinery and carried it into the living room; he had a ceiling light and battery operated clock in his bedroom, but no outlets to plug cords into. And there was a very high chance that the laptop wasn't charged considering he'd only ever used it once.

Glancing toward the TV, he caught sight of an empty socket on one of Matt's extension cords. Mello plugged his laptop in and made himself comfortable on the couch. Once the computer had been turned on and rebooted he was instantly online with the apartments DSL connection. The blonde typed in the only search engine he knew of, a big number made of letters, and typed in "online dating services". The page loaded instantaneously and Mello being the not-so-enthusiastic patient that he was just clicked on the first link at the top, In his opinion it was a rather stupid name for a dating service, but if it got him out of extra therapy sessions he really didn't care.

His eyes scanned over the text of the homepage. _"Welcome to Cupids Arsenal, the number one dating service on the web! Our specially designed compatibility tests will automatically find a perfect match in your area. Why wait for love when love can come to you!"_

It was cheesy, like almost makes your eyes bleed cheesy, but he was here now so he mine as well take the stupid test and get the whole ordeal over with quick and painlessly.

Mello scrolled farther down the page and clicked on the "proceed" button. It took him to a new page, at the top it said "I am a..." in bold type followed by a drop box with the options of 'male', 'female, and, '---', which was probably just a neutral option, followed by another bold typed "Looking for a…" preceded by the same set of drop box options. He clicked the first drop box and selected 'male', the second drop box 'female', then the annoying head previously mentioned was staring over his shoulder and he jumped half a mile off the couch while accidentally slamming his hand against the keyboard..

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Cement is so oddly beautiful after being forced to stare at an obnoxiously perky brunette for an hour and a half. At least it was to Matt who was having a lovely time abusing the steps he was glaring at on his way to the front door. He might have written off her compulsive happy-go-lucky attitude if maybe she was blonde, he liked blondes, and at least they had an excuse for being so annoying. And if it was for mutual sexual gratification he might have even given her a chance. It was just rather irritating to have to listen to these dime store blind dates chatter for hours on end twice a week and not even once find one moderately pleasing to the eye or ear. He was starting to get fed up with the whole idea of "dating". But random girls don't just walk up to you on the street and say, "You're cute, my place or yours?"….well Okay, so maybe that happened to him once…or twice… Still it wasn't very common. And he was never one for 'commitment'. The red head shuddered just thinking about the word. Visualizing each letter in his head was like seeing his headstone surrounded by dying grass with some creatively disturbing obituary slapped across the front like 'Here lies Matt, the gamer who smoked too much and liked to screw, though he didn't get to as much as he would have liked. Feel free to sit by his grave, cut class, and play your Gameboy for as many hours as you want'.

Matt wiggled the door knob, which had been very temperamental lately about turning on command. Once finally loosed, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.  
The lights were on, meaning Mello must have made it home before him. _Dammit_. He'd beaten his roommate home for the passed three weeks of blind dates to avoid any question asking and or being forced to make up unbelievably excessive excuses. It was no surprise then that as he walked into the living room there seated, or more like sprawled on the couch was the blonde typing away at his laptop. _Odd_. Mello hardly ever used his laptop, sometimes Matt wondered why he even had one since all it did was sit on his nightstand collecting dust and crumbs from savagely eaten chocolate bars. The red head pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and flipped his lighter to set the nicotine stick aflame. When life sucked, hott girls were scarce, and roommates were psychotic at least there was always a smoke at arms length.

"Whatcha doin'?" Matt leaned over his blonde roommate to try and sneak a peak at what amazing new development might 'cause him to actually give modern technology a try.

-------------

It was a good thing that Mello wasn't a very observant person; otherwise the mistake he had just made would have no excuse for being so ridiculously dumb. Oh wait, he was observant, never mind, it must be bad karma. When he had accidentally hit the keyboard after a certain red head scared the living daylights out of him one particularly important thing happened. The two drop boxes were unfortunately scrolled to '---' and the page refreshed before Mello could bat an eye at it. This would prove to be a very important little blunder for him in the long run. But for now he just had to get away from Matt's bad karma which was already doubling his own, however Mello was probably doubling it right back at Matt which would mean both their bad karma's were now quadrupled._ What a load of bullshit, _no wonder Mello didn't believe in karma. The blonde pushed his laptop screen down halfway to defend against nosey chain smokers, and looked back at the head staring over his shoulder.

"None of your damn business what I'm doing, but if you must know I am now going back to my bedroom since it is the only place I can actually be separated from you and your annoying nicotine addiction." He coughed a little from the second hand smoke he was forced to inhale as he stood up from the couch and stomped angrily into his bedroom, slamming the door like a five-year old in the midst of a temper tantrum. It almost made Matt laugh at how cutely sadistic that was, but he held himself to a strictly balanced diet of two parts apathy and one part I-Don't-Care, and to laugh now would just pack on the pounds of 'I actually give a damn'. So he instead decided to do what any self-respecting male would do after the world's worst date. He grabbed the remote, threw himself onto the couch, and turned the TV on for a good smoke and marathon of 'Bad Girls'. At least that was what the TV guide had said would be on, but it mine as well have been a marathon of Proactiv and Crest, the amount of commercials he was forced to sit through was completely mind numbing. Just when the gamer had given up the hope of seeing a random girl take her top off for a T-shirt, and was about to flip over to G4, a sexy female announcers voice started talking to him through the TV set.

"Are you tired of millions of pointless dates?" she asked through his surround sound speakers.

Matt rolled his eyes, "_yes..._"

"Would you rather just sit back and let the woman of your dreams come to you?"

"That would be nice…" the red head grunted.

"_Does your room mate leave the refrigerator door open every single time he goes into the kitchen because he just won't believe you when you tell him it won't stay shut if he slams it?"_ Matt blinked. Okay, maybe that last one was in his head.

"Well if you answered yes then turn off your TV and-" Matt was forced to quickly press the mute button when an angry voice disrupted the present peace of the living room.

"Matt turn the damn TV down I am trying to sleep!!!" Mello's muffled voice came from across the wall.

Being the more easy going of the two, Matt heeded to Mello's demands and kept the TV muted, but his eyes remained glued to the screen. Eventually they would say the name of whatever dating service this was, and he didn't want to miss it. Finally the commercial turned the screen entirely pink and words in fancy white writing popped onto the pink background, _Woah,_ Matt shook his head for a minute. That couldn't be right, who in their right mind would name a dating service 'Cupids Arse'? That was just plain revolting! Oh wait, the gamer had left his Xbox sitting on the coffee table, and it just so happened to be blocking a portion of the television screen. The red head peeked around it to find it was actually "Arsenal", not "Arse". This was a very pleasant revelation considering he was actually thinking about giving the site a try. He was at the end of his proverbial rope datingwise, and it was worth a shot.

Matt plunged a gloved hand under the sofa and withdrew his overly-used laptop; setting it on the couch beside him, he turned the machine on and opened up his browser of choice. Using the touch mouse built into the computer he moved his finger to click the address box, and typed in the URL of the previously mentioned dating site. He knew how these things worked, so naturally he ignored the front page, correctly entered "I am a 'man' looking for a 'woman" when the site refreshed, and was now confronted with a compatibility test, and "create user account" screen complete with a full self-profile to fill out, which he lied all the way through of course. The test wasn't too terribly long and after several minutes of filling out forms he was now registered as "PunkMe90". There was then a loading screen with a red heart rotating in circles as the computer calculated his test results. Finally the page loaded, and a list of his compatible partners reflected in the orange lenses of his goggles as his eyes scrolled down the page. There were A LOT, obviously it would take way too long to look through all their profiles and decide which would be the best date. So instead he returned to the top of the page and right clicked on the first screenname given, "DropDeadGorgeous1". He selected "Invite to chat" from the menu and waited for a response.

-------------

Add chronic liar to his list of admirable traits. The breif time the laptop had been plugged in had given him an ample amount of battery life, so Mello wasn't trying to sleep, he was actually still at the dating site where they had asked him to fill out the test thing and a personal profile which he didn't understand, and thus didn't bother typing out. After an annoying spinning heart had taunted him for about five minutes the blonde was told that apparently in all of 'Cupids Arsenal' he had a whopping two compatible partners. Number one was 'PunkMe90', and number two was 'StrawberryFiend'. Mello made a face at the strawberry one, didn't people know that chocolate was the ultimate flavor? He was about to send a message to Miss Strawberry and tell her that she must be mentally unstable to think that strawberry was the better flavor, but was interrupted by whats-her-face Punk's screenname popping up on a chat invitation. The blonde grunted, _wow this girl must be really desperate to send an invitation so quickly_. Oh well, it meant he could get this thing over with quickly and maybe even make the pathetic loser's life a living hell during the supposed date, that would be extremely fun. Mello clicked on the 'accept' button and was redirected to

'Chatroom 21199012131989 PunkMe90 & DropDeadGorgeous1'.

The punky girl was the first to send an IM.

**PunkMe90:** Hey

**DropDeadGorgeous1**: Yeah?

**PunkMe90:** Usually you are supposed to reply with a greeting.

**DropDeadGorgeous1:** Aww, isn't that polite?

Matt rolled his eyes, this girl just reminded him of someone, though for the life of him he couldn't remember who.

**PunkMe90:** Ouch. Really, it deeply wounds me when a complete stranger acts like I care.

Maybe this girl wasn't so bad after all; at least she shared Mello's indifference towards the feelings of others.

**DropDeadGorgeous1: **Too bad, buy me some sympathy and maybe I'll get back to you.

**PunkMe90:** How about I buy you dinner and we call it even?

Well at least she didn't waste any time getting to the point.

**DropDeadGorgeous1:** Wow, you are rather quick to ask me out. That desperate?

**PunkMe90:** These things are meant to be fast, unless you want to ask me a lot of nagging questions about myself, and or kittens and fuzzy things all of which will be given the answer "fuck that"….Still interested?

He assumed StrawberryWhatsHerFace wouldn't be at all as amusing as this girl, and if he had to actually socialize with some random stranger they mine as well amuse him.

**DropDeadGorgeous1:** Tomorrow, Seven o'clock, the bar counter at Mordez Moi café. Got it?

**PunkMe90:** Hmph… And I thought_ I _was the one asking _you_ out. Lol. Who's desperate now?

**DropDeadGorgeous1**: The one who is still trying to make conversation.

_DropDeadGorgeous1 has left the chat._

Mello had successfully pawned himself a date, that is if she actually showed up considering his bitchy attitude and rather abrupt departure from the chat room. It would be a fifty fifty gamble, either she would come and Mello would gain immunity from Miss Whine-To-Me-I'm-Being-Paid-By-The-Hour, or she wouldn't and he'd have to succumb to two hours of unadulterated torture. All he could really do was show up at the café after anger management and await his fate.

Meanwhile in the other room the red head was staring blankly at the computer screen; apparently he'd just made a date with some random girl on the internet. And a rather entertaining one at that. It was weird, he hadn't even talked to the girl for more than five minutes but already he was contemplating inviting her back to another chatroom. He didn't however, she seemed more than a bit prickly and he didn't want to ruin the set date. So instead he pointed his browser toward MapQuest and searched for directions to Mordez Moi café, which just so happened to be about three miles away. _Wow, it's a small world after all…_

-------------

The blonde shifted slightly on the bar stool, he was somewhat early because some weird intern had been filling in for his normal psychiatrist during his anger management session and she'd let the group go fifteen minutes premature of the usual parting time. So he'd been sitting there sipping casually at a thick chocolate milkshake for about ten minutes or so. Or at least he was pretty sure it was ten minutes, Mello glanced across the room at the over sized clock on the wall. It was actually seven o'clock right now. He glared at the second hand, which he still had not forgiven, and probably never would. In the middle of mentally smashing the clock into tiny smithereens, he was interrupted by the bell above the door making its annoyingly jolly jingly sound as someone stepped into the café. _Oh shit,_ Someone he recognized. He quickly turned his stool to the left in the hopes that the other wouldn't be paying enough attention to recognize its inhabitant. But it was too late.

"Mello?" Matt said in shock as he walked over to the bar counter. "What are you doing here?"

Mello sneered, still looking the other direction. "I'm drinking a milkshake, what does it _look_ like I'm doing?"

The gamer shrugged, about to walk away until the blonde boy swung his question right back at him.

"What are _you _doing here?" He asked snidely, then took another sip of milkshake, leaving the purple straw dangling from his mouth.

There was no use in lying now, Mello would actually _be there_ this time to watch him fail with yet another moronic date. "I'm here to meet a date." He said, hoisting himself onto the tall stool next to Mello's.

The straw dropped out of Mello's mouth and bounced off the table onto the floor. "You...what?"

"What, is it such a surprise to you that I actually have sex appeal?" Matt said dryly.

Dumbfounded by the realization of his current situation, Mello's green eyes locked on to Matt's blue ones in a partially shocked, partially angry stare. If this was some kind of joke the gamer was playing on him then the red head was deader than dead.

"Funny," Mello started unamused, "So am I."

Matt didn't know whether to just walk outside and shoot himself right then, or laugh uncontrollably at the sheer ridiculousness of this whole ordeal. He chose the laughing, but just a short dry laugh.

"Are we being Punk'd?" He joked, letting out another quick laugh.

Mello tilted his head and narrowed one eye, "What the hell does that mean?" He didn't waste time watching TV, unlike Matt, so he didn't get the gamer's joke, and was actually wondering if by "Punk'd" he meant a hott topic makeover or something of that sort.

"Nevermind," Matt sighed, "I guess I won't be scoring tonight after all."

The blonde let his head fall onto the counter with a painful sounding _thud!_, his hair spread out in every which direction. "You are a fuckin' moron." Came his muffled voice spoken into the counter top.

They both sat in awkward silence for a couple minutes, Mello still nose to nose with the counter, and Matt stiffly staring straight ahead. You could almost hear the sound of a cricket chirping somewhere outside adding its situational cliche sound effects to the scene just for the fun of it.

Matt was the one who ultimately broke the silence, "While, since we're here.."

They turned to each other and spoke at the same time.

"Want to grab some pizza?"

"Wanna catch a movie?"

The two started laughing, for real this time, at just how completely bizarre this was.

"Sure, but you're paying." The blonde glared at Matt, "And there is no way in hell I am letting you order mushrooms on that pizza."

Matt shrugged, "Fine by me."

* * *

Yet another crack fic, I hope that cheered some people up after the horrible events of episode 35. Oh yeah, Mello has more than one psychiatrist/therapist since he has anger management, therapy therapy, and just plain therapy. Heehee...If you guys liked this, I might write a sequel fic about the events of their "date". :3 Mwahahaha... 

**-Fatal Error **


End file.
